


This Time (Next Time)

by ardett



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Injury, M/M, One Shot, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardett/pseuds/ardett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're better than this (aren't you?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Time (Next Time)

**Author's Note:**

> 100% inspired by [Wuffen's](http://wuffen.tumblr.com/) beautiful [illustration](http://wuffen.tumblr.com/post/131625276505/this-was-supposed-to-be-like-a-happy-playful)!

You curl tighter in on yourself, into him, as another sobbing heave of breath squeezes your lungs. You grit your teeth, bit your lip to keep it in but still, something like a whimper gets trapped in your throat. Maybe he can hear it, feel it through the vibrations from your skin to his because he holds you a little bit tighter, hoists you a little bit higher. You let him support you ( _ but aren’t you supposed to be the one who supports? _ ) and let your hands dangle in front of his neck. You feel weak and drained, ashamed and guilty, it’s too much on your skin and in your head, _ too much, too much, too much. _

The whimper builds in your throat, twisting your vocal cords until it feels like a scream. When you speak though, it’s only a cracked whisper. “I’m sorry, Asahi-san…” Your face presses farther into his back as you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, tighter, tighter, god damn it,  _ why can’t you stop crying? _

“Nishinoya…” He says like it’s not your fault but it is, it is your fault, it is your fault. Your foot throbs as if in agreement.

You remember diving for the ball, throwing yourself down and something catching, something twisting, something cracking, something breaking,  _ breaking, breaking. _ You remember feeling the ball sting your hand and pushing off the ground hard to get back on your feet and  _ crumpling _ as pain ripped through your foot. You remember screaming and gripping his hand, gasping and gripping his hand, crying and gripping his hand.

The bandages around your foot tie your bones together and wind around your heart and throat. If you had just been a little quicker, a little smoother, a little better, than he wouldn’t have to carry you on his back like a burden. You’re a letdown, a disappointment, a shame, a mistake, a liar for painting yourself as invincible, for claiming to be strong.

Your breath comes out shaky on his neck. You think your fingertips are trembling.

Next time…

Next time you’ll do better ( _ you have to, you have to, you have to).  _ Next time you’ll prove you are better, better than this. You have to.


End file.
